


Not Okay

by TwunkBucky (DeathlyHallows)



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Borderline Personality Disorder, Dissociation, Drabble, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Jewish Bucky Barnes, M/M, One Shot, Past Abuse, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, because i didn't see it, because i prefer it to avengers tower, bucky lives in steve's apartment, disregards age of ultron, i very nearly titled this "fuck dan savage, in washington dc, it doesn't get better", nor do i plan to, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-03-30 15:48:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3942505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathlyHallows/pseuds/TwunkBucky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky is tired of hearing that things will get better, that everything is okay. Maybe, just maybe, Steve is beginning to understand. (sootonthecarpet I know you didn't ask for this fic but I don't really care)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Okay

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sootonthecarpet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sootonthecarpet/gifts).
  * Translation into Tiếng Việt available: [Not Okay (translation)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4080211) by [StuckyShipper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StuckyShipper/pseuds/StuckyShipper)



> Just a short little theoretical post-CA:TWS fic that will likely become obsolete once Civil War comes out. Bucky and Steve are sharing an apartment in DC, because Brooklyn holds too many memories and Manhattan holds too much fear.  
> It's likely I'll write a Steve-focused version of this as well.  
> Also: the tense changes partway through but it's intentional, as the first part is relaying the events that lead up to the present. Hope it's not too confusing, I did my best to keep it consistent.
> 
> Now available in Tiếng Việt thanks to StuckyShipper:  Not Okay by StuckyShipper for TwunkBucky (Deathly Hallows) 
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/4080211

It's been half a year since Bucky moved into Steve's apartment. He rarely speaks, maybe a sentence or two on average. Some days, he'll have a whole conversation. Even more often, he goes a week without speaking at all. Some days he sat crying for hours as Steve sat next to him, rubbing small circles on his back. Telling him things would get better.

Bucky hated that.

He hated being told things would get better. He hated being told he was okay. He didn't feel okay, didn't feel safe. He _knew_ he was broken beyond repair. He wanted to yell at Steve, scream  _why can't you just accept that I'll never be the good guy_ , wanted to punch the nightstand until his knuckles bled. But he never did. He never voiced his fears, either. Never spoke about how he worried that once Steve realized the Bucky from before was never coming back, he'd be out on the streets again. That Steve would stop loving him.

It was slow, slow enough that at first Bucky didn't notice, but eventually he was sure: Steve was saying these things less and less. Perhaps Steve was already becoming disillusioned. So he was even more afraid than before, and hated the silence as much as the words.

So Bucky started acting out. Little things, like accidentally-on-purpose bumping into Wilson when he stopped by to go running with Steve. Sneering any time Steve mentioned the Avengers. Just little tests to see if Steve was paying attention.

Steve usually failed.

So the tests got bigger. Leaving dishes around the apartment. Sleeping on the living room couch. Disappearing for hours at a time. When he returned from his first impromptu outing, Steve had barely looked up before saying monotonously, "Oh, there you are," and returning to his magazine. Bucky did his best to act equally nonchalant, but was unable to stop himself slamming the bathroom door. After what Bucky estimated was around two hours (it felt like longer, but he knew better) Steve knocked on the bathroom door. Bucky simply grunted, not wanting to give away the fact that he'd been throwing up off and on for the majority of his bathroom trip.

"Everything okay in there?" Steve's voice sounded soft, compassionate. Bucky clenched the top of his throat to do battle with the nausea that had just returned in full force. It was a trick, surely. A ploy to lure him out.

" 'M fine," he managed before having to clamp his mouth shut once more.

"...Alright. Let me know if you need anything, alright?" Steve waited a few moments before resigning himself to the silence and walking away.

Things had just escalated since then, escalated until they had reached this zenith. Thinking back, Bucky wonders what sort of intervention, if any, could have prevented his present situation. Because two nights ago Bucky had snapped and stormed out of the house, jogging blindly for hours until he realized that he was very, very lost. Still lost, he thinks bitterly. His memory from the past few days is full of gaps, and this terrifies him. He's no stranger to memorial missing links, but this is different. He doesn't remember anything from this morning, or yesterday evening. However, he can tell from sensations alone that he has had nothing to eat or drink since he left.

Not knowing what else to do, Bucky just continues to walk aimlessly. After a while he realizes he's come to standing in front of what looks like a synagogue. Bucky looks at the sign that reads "Ohev Sholom - The National Synagogue" and realizes that's exactly what it is. Judging by the fact that they hold a daily minyan, Bucky figures it's an Orthodox shul. Does that mean they're always open? Bucky isn't sure. He'd grown up conservative and even then he had rarely attended. For a moment he acknowledges the dark humor in the fact that he remembers his childhood denomination, but not the day of the week - something that would be helpful if he had hopes of getting a Shabbat meal. Finally he gives up on deciding (making decisions sucks, what if he makes the wrong one?) and just sits on the sidewalk out in front. He wonders if he might try to pray, but he can't quite remember how, so he just bows his head and rocks back and forth like he remembers all the zaydes from shul doing.

Bucky isn't sure if he was entranced in prayer or distraction, but an incredulous voice calling out "Barnes?" snaps him from his reverie. He looks up, confused, to find none other than Sam Wilson staring him down.

"Holy shit, that _is_ you. What the hell are you doing in Shepherd Park? Steve and I have been looking all over for you!"

Bucky doesn't respond, but pushes away the usual annoyance that this  _other_ soldier is on such good terms with Steve, and instead processes what he'd heard. Steve was looking for him? Why? Was Steve afraid he would relapse and attack people if he wasn't kept under supervision?

His head is swimming. That  _was_ a risk. He shouldn't have run away, endangered others. What kind of monster would do that?

"Steve-" Bucky croaks, not managing to express his question properly, but Wilson understands.

"He's still out looking," the flyer replies, "I'll call him, tell him to meet us at my place. It's just up the street."

Bucky nods and goes to stand, legs trembling. It takes him a moment, but he pulls it off. "I'm sorry," he whispers.

Wilson assumes he's referring to his rude behavior in the past. "Don't worry about it, man. It's all cool, alright?" He offers an arm for Bucky to steady himself with, but doesn't seem bothered when it's turned down. Maybe he expected that, Bucky realizes. Maybe he was banking on it.

The two of them walk the few blocks in silence before arriving at Wilson's home. Wilson opens the door and ushers Bucky in, and Bucky is faintly aware of the fact that the door was already unlocked, but he doesn't get time to process this because Steve is standing right there and he looks  _mad_.

"Where the hell have you been? It's been nearly three days, Buck, Jesus Christ!"

Bucky opens his mouth to respond in earnest, but he can't, somehow, and instead finds himself pointedly mumbling, "I'm Jewish." Wilson snorts upon realizing that Bucky had made a joke, but Steve just looks ready to hit him.

"Is this a joke to you? Some kind of game?" And as Steve says this Bucky finally realizes it's not anger in Steve's eyes, but hurt, fear, and desperation.

He doesn't know how to say that it  _is_ a game, but not a fun one, and not one he'd chosen to play, so he just shakes his head. "I'm sorry; didn't realize you'd worry."

Steve looks like he's been slapped. "Bucky...course I'd worry! You went storming off for no reason and then don't come back, and you think I won't worry?" Steve's face seems to be cycling from shock to anger to sadness and back, jumbled up in a ball of confusion that Bucky can't follow. "I mean, I nearly shit myself every time you disappeared beforehand, but I didn't say anything because I figured you needed it, so-"

But then Steve isn't talking because Bucky is laughing, laughing because his only other option is to cry, and he doesn't want that. He's laughing, laughing so hard that he thinks maybe he is crying after all, but the look on Steve's face says otherwise. It's a look of confusion and pain. Simple enough emotions to read, and Bucky is grateful for that.

He tried for an explanation. "I...you'd been getting distant. Stopped talking 'bout me getting better. I figured you'd given up on me." Now he really is crying, although not the loud sobs he'd feared. Just quiet, shaking heaves. "So I, ah, I tried to get your attention. But it didn't work." Bucky is aware that he sounds ridiculous, but he's on a roll now, and he can't stop. "So I tried harder. Stayed out longer. You never said anything, so I thought...I thought you didn't care..." The end of words taper off into more heaves, and everything is spinning, and he feels like he's falling and this time Steve isn't even trying to catch him-

But then Steve does. He wraps his arms around Bucky, knowing Bucky might struggle, clearly willing to take that risk. But Bucky just goes limp, and the two of them sink to the floor. "I'm so sorry," Steve is saying, even though Bucky doesn't think he's done anything wrong, "I'm so, so, sorry. I didn't realize, I thought you were just coping. I thought you needed space, but I should have known better." And Steve's eyes are shining now, he's crying, crying over  _Bucky_. When had he earned this?

"Don't deserve your apology." The words tumble out, even though he's sure Steve will be angry. But Steve isn't, he just holds Bucky tighter, tight enough it almost hurts. Somehow, this helps Bucky breathe better.

"That's not true, Buck, you know it's not. You mean the world to me. Always have, always will." Steve's voice is firm. "I promise, I swear on my shield, on anything you'd like, actually."

Bucky doesn't respond. He doesn't know how to. As it turns out, it doesn't matter, because Steve has more to say.

"I stopped saying things would get better, because I realized I was wrong. At least, in the sense I originally meant it." Steve rubs Bucky's back as he speaks. "You're never gonna be the same guy you used to be. I get that now. But it's okay, you know? I'm not the same guy I used to be either. I've changed a lot since I first lost you. But you know what hasn't changed?" Steve smiles gently. "How much I believe in and care about you. No matter how much you've changed."

Bucky can't help but smile against Steve's chest. He thinks maybe, just maybe, he knows what Steve is gonna say. And maybe, just maybe, he believes it.

Steve smiles broadly. "Deny it all you like, Buck, but I'm with you til the end of the line. No matter how bumpy the ride."

 

**Author's Note:**

> If I made any drastic canonical errors, do let me know - I have memory issues ^^'' The ending was so hard to write because by the time I finally got around to it, I'd waited too long and had forgotten what I actually wanted to say. Oh well. Hope you enjoyed! Feel free to follow me on tumblr at twunkbucky.


End file.
